


The Best Medicine

by catty_the_spy



Series: Tserillian!verse [22]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Crying, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hugs, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:46:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catty_the_spy/pseuds/catty_the_spy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As an illogical human child, Joanna is entitled to a bizarre insistence on physical contact.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> for the h/c bingo prompt ‘hugs’. Part of Tserillian!verse. This was _supposed_ to be five times Joanna thinks that T’Niri needed a hug and one time T’niri hugged back. It was also supposed to be longer, but I started spinning my mental wheels in the dirt. So. Ta-da?

“Bullies are illogical” Joanna said, plucking at the tiny grass that never needs cutting.

T’Niri didn’t say anything.

“And they’re mean and stupid, and nothing they say is worth listenin to.”

Joanna’s mommy had told her that before she went away, when the lisp was really bad and people were mean. Her daddy said so too.

“What they say is correct,” T’Niri said. “I am learning at a slower rate.”

“No you’re not, Niri, I keep telling you! Teacher would’ve said.”

T’Niri had a face she made when she thought Joanna was lying. It looked worse when T’Niri looked like she wanted to cry.

Joanna did the first thing she thought of. She pulled T’Niri into a really big hug.

T’Niri stiffened up. “What are you doing?”

“It’s called a hug,” Joanna said into her shoulder. “I’m trying to help you feel better.”

T’Niri considered this for a few quiet moments.

“Does clinging to a companion really improve your emotional state?”

Joanna nodded. “Daddy says hugs are the best medicine; he should know, ‘cause he’s a doctor.”

“Oh. I suppose a doctor _would_ know.”

Joanna lifted her head. “Is it working?”

T’Niri frowned. “I am not sure.”

Joanna scrunched up her face, trying to _really see_ how T’Niri was doing. She gave a very firm nod. “I think it did. What do you think?”

T’Niri stood, brushing dirt off her tunic. “I think this requires further study.”

Joanna took that as a yes.

 

T’Niri and Joanna had pods right next to each other.

The older boys came around and started throwing things into T’Niri’s pod again. This time, Joanna marched right up to them.

“You are damaged,” one of the boys was saying. “It is illogical to keep you here.”

“ _You’re_ illogical,” Joanna snapped, arms folded.

The boys turned their attention to her. “I am not illogical, you are. You are nothing but a human.”

“So? You’re still the one who’s illogical.”

One of the other boys, Stokev, threw one of the small rocks from outside at Joanna. “Your mother is illogical.”

Joanna’s hands balled into fists.

She broke Stokev’s nose. The teacher called Grandpa’s housekeeper to pick her up.

 

“I am sure you have a logical explanation for your behavior,” Grandpa Sarek said.

Spock had been teaching her a little bit of how Vulcans made their emotions disappear. It didn’t stop her eyes from stinging, but it helped her look Grandpa in the face.

“I’m a human,” Joanna said. “They were throwing stuff, so it’s logical that if you throw things at a human the human makes you stop.”

“Is that all?”

Joanna shrugged.

“Your instructor says that you excused your actions with the claim that Stokev was being ‘a stupid dumbass and a big meanie’.”

“He was!”

“Joanna…”

“He was! He was throwing things at Niri and he called her names, and it’s not fair! It’s not fair that I got in trouble and he didn’t get in trouble at all.”

Joanna started crying, though she didn’t mean to. She wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was because mitts didn’t bleed when they got hit, or because T’Niri had been sad for weeks, or because her mom was not illogical and that was a mean thing to say.

Like Spock, Grandpa Sarek wasn’t good at hugs; he did shoulder pats and cups of tea. Joanna hugged herself.

 

 

Joanna had spent the night at T’Niri’s house. Mrs. T’Sara had already made sure their school clothes were good. All they had to do was finish eating and put them on.

T’Niri’s family ate nurti-squares for breakfast. Nutria-squares could be okay, if they tasted like pistachios or oranges, but these tasted like slimy nothing.

Breakfast was hard.

“Did you bring your hair decorations?”

“My barrettes?” Joanna asked. Did nutria-squares count for showing respect to another culture or could she get away with calling them gross?

“Yes,” T’Niri said. “Did you bring them?”

“Some. I gotta do my hair for school.”

“Could I see them after breakfast?”

Joanna frowned – not at the food this time. “What for? They aren’t the ones I play with.”

T’Niri put her utensils down. “I know. May I see them?”

Joanna shrugged. “Sure.”

When they got upstairs, Joanna pulled out her hair-box. “I brought a whole bunch. I have fun with my hair, ‘cause Grandpa lets me do it like I want. I was gonna do a rainbow.”

T’Niri didn’t say anything. She picked through the barrettes in the box until she found three yellow ones. She held them up.

“These are Terran butterflies?”

“Mhmm. Not real ones.”

“I assumed as much.”

T’Niri held the barrettes in one hand and used the other to pick up Joanna’s hand mirror.

“Will you help me? I’m not sure how to wear them.”

Joanna frowned. “You mean to school?”

“Clearly.” T’Niri wore her trying-not-to-be-nervous face.

Joanna smiled. Then she gave T’Niri a big hug.

 

When T’Niri stepped into her learning pod, her normal bob was parted by three yellow barrettes. She had to explain the logic of tiny fabric butterflies to her teacher, but she and Joanna both found emotional satisfaction in the expression Stokev wore.

Those barrettes had always been her favorite.

 

 

On New Vulcan, calling someone illogical was meaner than calling someone a stupidface or a dumbass. Calling someone a dumbass here hardly even got you in trouble. Grandpa and Ms. T’Kir-Who-Takes-Care-Of-The-House were the only ones who cared.

Grandpa Sarek said it was children without a full understanding of logic who used “illogical” to be mean. Joanna thought it was adults too.

She and T’Niri hid in an alcove just outside Grandpa Sarek’s office. Ms. T’Sara was in there, and so was Mr. Solkek and Mr. Tuvon.

Ms. T’Kir was making dinner; she thought they were playing dress up.

They really had been at first, but then T’Niri noticed the grownups were talking about them and Joanna _really_ wanted to listen.

“The child’s over-emotionalism and faulty logic are contagious,” Mr. Solkek was saying. “The effects have spread throughout the entirety of her educational level.”

“My daughter is an example of the damage your granddaughter is causing. Joanna is worsening my daughter’s already poor mastery of her emotions. T’Niri has become prone to making decisions that lack discernible logic.”

Mr. Tuvon raised his eyebrows. “T’Niri has shown improvements in the study of foreign cultures. She was able to explain the logic of human decorative headpieces and compare them to those found in the history of our race.”

“I must express some surprise,” Mrs. T’Sara said. “I had not expected to see an educator defend such illogical behavior.”

Grandpa Sarek didn’t say anything. He was getting up and walking slowly towards the doorway.

“Is it illogical to make allowances for youth in circumstances such as these?”

“It’s illogical to make excuses for –”

“I do believe,” Sarek said, interrupting them, “that this conversation is better suited for another part of the house.”

He stepped into the hallway.

“T’Niri shouldn’t get in trouble,” Joanna protested.

“Neither of you are ‘in trouble’. You are, however, listening to a conversation that you have no part in. You should return to the playroom.”

Joanna ran back to her room. T’Niri was already there, staring at the play-clothes hung up by color in Joanna’s long travel case.

“Whew!” Joanna leaned against the closed door. “Niri, how fast’d you run to get back?”

“I did not run,” T’Niri said.

“You walked off _real_ fast.”

Joanna shook herself and went to the case. “Grandpa said next year he’ll get a real dresser for my play-clothes. Daddy thought that was funny. I guess he wishes he’d get one too? I think he and Spock like dress-up more than they say. If they didn’t like it they wouldn’t play it, right?”

Joanna looked back at T’Niri and frowned. “Are you okay?”

If T’Niri had been human, she might have shrugged. As it was, she didn’t look Joanna in the eye.

“Do you think that I’m…that I am illogical?”

“Of course not! You’re the logicalest person I know. You’re like…super logical. Supogical.”

“Supogical is not a word,” T’Niri said. “Do not alter the truth to spare feeling that I should not have.”

“I’m not lying! You’re really _really_ logical.”

T’Niri drooped. “My mother would not agree, and she has more experience in matters of logic.”

Joanna sat beside her on the bed. “Grownups can be real illogical sometimes. Just ‘cause they call you a bad name doesn’t mean it’s true.”

T’niri didn’t reply.

Joanna sighed. “Grandpa Sarek doesn’t think you’re illogical. He’s real important, so he’d know.”

T’Niri still didn’t say anything. Joanna pulled her into a hug.

They didn’t play anymore games that night.

 

 

Joanna had created a list of things they could do that would make T’Sara think that T’Niri was the most logical child on the planet.

Part of this was exploring. It was logical to explore the terrain, wasn’t it?  
Grandpa Sarek said it was okay so long as I-Chaya came along, so T’Niri and Joanna and an elderly sehlat trekked to the sparse grove of trees on the hill behind Sarek’s house.

T’Niri had a PADD in hand, and she read as she walked. “The sehlat breeding program is having its first success. There have been three live births and one cloning. The clone was made from genetic sample of a deceased sehlat that had been carried around by adolescents for some time.”

“So there’ll be tons of I-Chinas again?” Joanna stopped to pull her socks up. “I-Chaya, I mean. Sorry I-Chaya, I keep forgetting.”

I-Chaya rubbed his bristly body against her side. He was a bit grumpy this morning; Sarek said it was arthritis exacerbated by the colder weather. Not that it felt very cold; they hadn’t been walking twenty minutes and Joanna had already sweat through her top. Good thing these were her walking-out clothes and not her heavy school clothes.

“I will search for I-Chaya’s information,” T’Niri said. “It will take a moment.”

“Let’s get to the top of the hill.”

It was a steep climb. Whenever the girls slowed, I-Chaya plodded behind them and nudged them with his head. He was holding some of their water on his back.

Sarek said that when Spock was small he’d been able to ride I-Chaya like a horse, though now I-Chaya was far too old. The water was plenty; enough water for human Joanna and T’Niri both for a day’s walk wasn’t light. Along with that, the girls had brought trail mix, a number of sandwiches in a picnic basket, water for I-Chaya, who would find his own food, a pedometer that would create a map from the path they took, a compass, and T’Niri’s science kit. T’Niri had the honor of carrying their communicator. It was for emergencies only, and T’Niri was older by six months.

That was okay. This trip was for T’Niri anyway.

“I-Chaya’s genetic material is being mixed with that of a younger female,” T’Niri announced. “They will be attempting implantation next week.”

“Good,” Joanna said, puffing a bit. Her socks were sliding down into her shoes again. “Do you think we’ll get to see I-Chaya’s babies?”

“It is a possibility. Some of sehlat’s common behavior is learned through interaction with elders of their species. They might place a young sehlat with I-Chaya so that it will learn from him.”

Joanna stopped again. “Maybe I should re-tie my shoes.”

“That is of no consequence. Look!” T’Niri stooped in front of a line of berries. “These have not been featured in our lessons. I wonder what species it is.”

Joanna took advantage of the distraction and sat down. She hated being sweaty.

Her daddy would be complaining he was out of shape. He would stoop with his hands on his knees, and he’d say “Joanna, could I please ride on your back?”  
He’d know what to do to help T’Niri. He could fix anything.

T’Niri finished taking samples and repacked her science kit.

“We should move on. If we stray from our timetable, we will be late returning to your house.”

“Can’t we just stop here? I’m _tired_.”

T’Niri raised her eyebrows. “This was your idea.”

“It was a stupid idea.”

I-Chaya snuffled at Joanna’s shoulders. She stood.

“ _Fine._ I hope it’s windy up there. I’m _hot._ ”

 

The sun was looking right down at them when they finally made it to the top. They hadn’t found any streams or ponds anywhere, not that T’Niri had said they would. Joanna had gone through two bottles of water; she was trying to save the rest for the trip back down.

The sandwiches were cucumber and vashati, with some sort of spicy Vulcan sauce. They had a tea party, with real tea that T’Niri had brought. They ate the sandwiches with their pinkies up, which T’Niri accepted as a cultural oddity. They gave three of them to I-Chaya. People food was like junk food to sehlats, but a little wouldn’t hurt. Grandpa Joe always said that old men deserved their vices, and old sehlats couldn’t be that different.

The trail mix was dessert. They had a few races before they ate it, with I-Chaya on their heels snorting his displeasure. He seemed happy when they settled down on the picnic blanket. He lay down and closed his eyes, snoring like a shuttle engine.

“It occurs to me that we have neglected to bring a first aid kit,” T’Niri said.

“We’ll just be extra careful not to get hurt.”

There was an unshelled batka nut in Joanna’s last mouthful of trailmix. She spit the offending nut into her hand, rubbing her tongue over her teeth to make sure they hadn’t cracked.

T’Niri took the nut eagerly and put it in her kit. “Batka nuts are excellent sources of both protein and copper. Father says they may some become an essential dietary staple.”

“Like nutri-squares?” Joanna couldn’t picture tons of people stapling those to anything.

“Yes, only without the aid of a replicator.”

T’Niri had sorted her portion of trail mix into piles. There were a bunch. Along with the batka nuts there were pistachios, peanuts, flax seeds, katka nuts, dried shipuri, peanut butter m&ms, and raisins.

“Why do we need two peanut products?” T’Niri had asked when they were mixing it.

“Because,” Joanna had said, “that’s the way you’re supposed to do it.”

T’Niri ate it one piece at a time, eating a piece out of each pile in alphabetical order. It was gonna take her forever.

Joanna leaned back against I-Chaya. “Niri, do you miss Old Vulcan?”

“It would not be logical to miss a planet I do not remember.”

“I thought Vulcans could remember everything, like elephants.”

T’Niri picked up her PADD. She was probably making a note to look up elephants later.

“I was too young to remember.” T’Niri frowned. “There is very little basis for such a belief, but I harbor the hypothesis that if Vulcan had not been destroyed, my mother would have less reason to question my emotional control. They will not tell me directly, but through dropping of eaves I have discovered the debate on whether to integrate the V’tosh ka’tur into our society. She does not want to lose more of our ways.”

“I understand that,” Joanna said. “When Mommy died I wanted everything to go back to the way it was. I still do sometimes.”

“Such a desire in a Vulcan would be illogical.”

There weren’t any clouds that Joanna could see. She hurt her eyes trying to look.

T’Niri picked up a red M&M.

On impulse, Joanna reached over and hugged her.

“You know, you’re my best friend.”

“Such a distinction is illogical. By all accounts I am your only friend.”

“I’ve had friends before. You’re the best.”

Maybe she was imagining it, but Joanna was sure T’Niri leaned into her a little.

“Thank you,” T’Niri said.

They stay on the hill until I-Chaya starts grumbling. Joanna doesn’t want to go home.

 

 

Joanna dried her eyes at the knock on her bedroom door. Grandpa Sarek said it was no big deal that she didn’t hide her feelings like Vulcans did, but she always felt like she’d done something rude. So before she said “come in” she tried to make it look like she hadn’t been crying.

She couldn't help but smile when she saw who it was. “Niri!”

T'Niri was already changed out of her school clothes. She had on a staying-inside tunic, with the barettes she'd gotten from Joanna.

"Your grandfather said that you were not allowed to play, but we are allowed to read quietly."

Joanna nodded. It was better than being in trouble with Daddy; he wouldn't have let T'Niri come over.

T'Niri had brought her PADD. "I've decided we should start with the sehlat breeding program," she said, stepping over I-Chaya to get to the bed. "I believe there is new information you would be pleased to hear."

She didn't say anything about what had happened at school.

Joanna had a stuffed sehlat that she hugged whenever she was feeling sad. She held onto him now, trying not to think about broken noses and frowning faces. She tried not to be obvious about leaning on T'Niri.

"Are baby sehlats puppies or cubs? Bears have cubs, right?"

"Sehlats are not bears," T'Niri said. "In this case, I believe the proper term would be kits."

"Kits." Joanna frowned. "Like kittens?"

T'Niri sighed. "The Vulcan word is quite different. The terms used in Federation Standard do not make sense."

T'Niri sounded awful haughty. Joanna tried not to laugh.

T’Niri showed her pictures of fertilized sehlat babies, and of young sehlats that were just born. There were video clips they could watch too, and Joanna giggled so loudly she woke I-Chaya.

I-Chaya used to watch Spock all the time, but I-Chaya was old now, so mostly his watching was really just sleeping. He was good at making sure Joanna didn’t get around being grounded. If she left the bed, or laughed too loud, or made a bunch of noise, I-Chaya would wake up and make irritated noises, and snuffle as much of Joanna as he could reach to make sure she was alright.

If Joanna was attacked by a giant were-sehlat with super speed, I-Chaya would turn the were-sehlat into itty-bitty vibrating pieces, and then he would drag her by her shirt to the safest place he could find. As a babysitter, though, he needed a _lot_ of help.

Joanna scratched behind I-Chaya’s ears and patted his big hairy head. When he was satisfied, he flopped back onto the floor and heaved a big sigh. Joanna sighed too; it was a sighing kind of day.

T’Niri sat up really straight, like she was getting ready to explain something to Teacher. “Joanna, what Sekir said this morning was both incorrect and cruel. Neither of us has met your mother, but as I am friends with you I know more about her than he does, and I can say with certainty that she loved you and that leaving you did not give her emotional satisfaction. Sekir’s behavior was illogical, and showed a complete lack of emotional control. You should not allow his words to effect you.”

“I know,” Joanna said. If she wasn’t careful she was going to cry again. “Sometimes…sometimes I think that too. Maybe I wasn’t good enough, and that’s why she went away. I know it’s silly, but I try to be my best so that maybe she’ll like me again and come back.”

“Your logic is faulty,” T’Niri said, but she said it really nicely.  
She leaned into Joanna, and Joanna took that as permission to pull T’Niri into a hug.

Joanna was a big girl, and she was in control of her emotions. She wasn’t going to cry on T’Niri’s shoulder like a baby.

T’Niri was a good friend.  



End file.
